


To Live is the Rarest Thing

by Beckers522



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Human, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Memory Loss, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckers522/pseuds/Beckers522
Summary: A collection of one-shots following Aziraphale and Crowley as they navigate their new and very human lives. Follow up to "Stop All the Clocks" (but you can read this separately if you want).





	1. Coming Out at Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!
> 
> Like the summary said, this is a collection of one-shots I am writing as a follow up to one of my fics called "Stop All the Clocks". You do not need to read that story to understand and enjoy what is going on here, but if you want the details, that is where you should look. Below is a list of things you do need to know before reading this story to fully appreciate it:
> 
> 1) A year after the Apocalypse, Aziraphale is killed when the Archangels and Demon Lords team up to get rid of the angel/demon team. They try to kill Crowley too, but are unsuccessful
> 
> 2) Aziraphale is reborn as a human and lives a normal human life in England. During that time, he has no memory of his former life as an angel. He believes himself to be a normal human teenager. The majority of the story takes place about 18 years after the events in Good Omens
> 
> 3) Aziraphale’s memories come to him while he sleeps in the form of dreams. Almost all of the memories that return are ones of Crowley over the centuries they have known each other. Through this, Aziraphale’s human self falls back in love with Crowley, although he cannot remember the demon’s name
> 
> 4) Meanwhile, Crowley spends seventeen years believing Aziraphale is dead. He does some pretty terrible things during that time (all of which are detailed in the other story)
> 
> 5) Eventually, the pair are reunited and both are sent back to live on earth as humans. Crowley retains all his memories of being a demon. Aziraphale's memories are slowly coming back to him as this story progresses.
> 
> If I think of anything I missed, I will be sure to add it here. I hope you enjoy! If questions pop up, feel free to let me know and I will do my best to answer them and make things clearer. And, as always, please leave comments so I can see what you think!!

The doorbell rang once.

Aziraphale was sitting at his desk, working on the final details of his painting. It was two days until Christmas and he couldn’t believe he’d taken so long to finish Crowley’s gift. He should have been working on it weeks ago, but had been so busy studying for midterms that the project had completely slipped his mind.

The idea had come to him from one of his dreams - one of his memories, he’d recently realized. It was a painting of St. James Park, looking out from the very same bench they’d met on for hundreds of years. The pond was shimmering with summer light. Over by the treeline a team of ducks could be seen, splashing happily about.

He was quite proud of this painting. The watercolors had blended nicely together and the image had really come to life over the last few hours. Aziraphale wondered if it had anything to do with his realization that the picture in his mind was an actual memory as opposed to just a dream. Had that made it clearer in his head? Easier to bring to life on paper? Either way, he was glad it was turning out so well. All he had to do now was wait for it to dry and frame it before he could give it to Crowley. 

The doorbell rang twice.

Things were going quite well from his perspective. It had been nearly a month since he and Crowley had been officially made humans. The former demon seemed to be adjusting to his new life now that he’d gotten the hang of hunger pangs and the need for a regular sleep cycle. Aziraphale’s memories were coming back bit by bit and the former angel was learning how to balance all the new information he was gaining with his current life as a human. It all seemed like a bit much, sometimes, but true to his word, Crowley had been there every step of the way. 

The doorbell rang three times.

“Will!” his mother’s voice called from the study. “Get the door please? I’ve got my hands full down here.”

It took the briefest of moments for him to realize she was talking to him. With two names warring inside his mind for dominance, sometimes he forgot that they both referred to him.

“Got it, Mom!” he called back, placing the paintbrush down gingerly on the easel in front of him. It wouldn’t do to ruin the present when he was so close to finishing. 

Aziraphale flew down the stairs, sliding around the corner as he landed at the bottom. Quickly as he could, the former angel opened the door and found himself face to face with a lanky teen dressed in tight fitting black clothing with a mane of flaming red hair grinning down at him. Aziraphale beamed.

“C - Anthony!” he caught himself at the very last second. They’d both agreed to him using Crowley’s human first name whenever there were other people around. It just didn’t make much sense for Aziraphale to call the boy by his supposed surname. “What are you doing here?”

Crowley smiled and stepped inside, handing Aziraphale a medium sized box wrapped up in a silver bow. The boy took it, surprise inching its way onto his face.

“What is this for?” he asked curiously, turning to follow his best friend back into the house. Aziraphale’s family had a lot of things going on this time of year, so he hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Crowley as he would have liked. Their next date wasn’t scheduled until the day after Christmas, and even then it would have to be cut short. December 26th was the day Aziraphale and his earthly father spent the evening watching whatever new movies they had acquired that holiday season. It was a family tradition he would not be allowed to miss. Not even to spend time with the love of his life. 

“Christmas,” the boy responded, wiggling his eyebrows in Aziraphale’s direction. “What else?” He looked around the foyer like it was the first time Crowley had ever stepped into his house. It took a moment for Aziraphale to realize that this _ was, _in fact, Crowley’s first time here. Their meeting over the past month had all taken place at the Device-Pulsifer household. Newt and Anathema were two of the only people who knew about their true identities, so the house had become a sort of safe haven for Crowley and Aziraphale to just be themselves.

“I’m afraid I’m not quite done with your gift yet, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured disappointedly. He knew he should have started working on it ages ago. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until the 26th.” 

“No need to sound so upset about it, angel,” Crowley smiled, setting Aziraphale’s heart aflutter. He absolutely adored that name, especially now that he knew what it meant. The former angel couldn’t remember exactly when Crowley had started using it instead of his real name. Perhaps that particular memory hadn’t come back yet, or perhaps the boy had been doing it for so long that even if he had all his memories, Aziraphale still wouldn’t remember. Either way, he knew that Crowley had been using it as a term of endearment long before Aziraphale had caught on. “I could always just leave and come back another day.”

“No!” Aziraphale shouted, clasping his hands over his mouth at the accidental loud noise. “No, it’s fine. I want you to stay.”

“Alright then,” Crowley stated. “You’ve convinced me.” As if he was ever actually considering leaving. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but could not stop the smile on his face.

“Will?” a voice called from downstairs. “Is someone here? I hear voices.”

It was his mother. Aziraphale turned toward the stairs leading down to the lower level. “It’s a friend of mine,” the boy called back. “Can he stay for a while?”

Her approval rang loud and clear throughout the house. Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley, feeling the blush already creeping up his neck. “Ready to meet my parents?” he asked. Not that there was much of a choice. He could already hear his mother’s footsteps making their way up the stairs towards the front landing.

“Oh,” his mother exclaimed upon seeing Crowley for the first time. Aziraphale tried his hardest to gauge her reaction, but the woman had plastered a friendly smile on her face so quickly that her son had no time to observe her. “Welcome! I’m Will’s mother. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Anthony,” his friend supplied, reaching out to take her hand. “Anthony Crowley. It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Downes.”

“Are you a friend from school?” Aziraphale’s mother asked, glancing between her son and the strange boy he’d invited into her house. Aziraphale flushed. Perhaps he should have mentioned Crowley before he randomly decided to drop by the house.

Crowley glanced down at Aziraphale and the boy gave him an encouraging smile. He didn’t have anything to compare this experience to. It must be so weird for Crowley to be here wanting to impress these humans. For so long it had just been him and Aziraphale. No one to impress but themselves.

“No,” Crowley began, suddenly looking a bit nervous. “I’m uh… I’m not currently in school. I’m planning on taking my college entrance exams in the spring, but public education wasn’t exactly the right fit for me.”

A grunt sounded from the living room. Aziraphale turned to see his father sitting on the couch, nose buried in a newspaper magazine. He hadn’t even bothered to get up and say hello.

“I see.” Aziraphale’s mother didn’t sound entirely pleased with that information, but she didn’t press further. “How do you two know each other?”

“Anthony is Titus’ foster brother,” Will explained, his eyes hovering a few inches below his mother’s face. Why was he so afraid of what she might think? It really shouldn’t matter. He and Crowley had been together for over six thousand years, nothing his mother said would ever change that. And yet, he desperately wanted her to like Crowley. It would make things so much easier.

“That’s nice.” Was it? Aziraphale studied his mother’s face, the crease in her brow, the corners of her mouth. She looked apprehensive. That was the best term he could think of to describe it. 

“Well,” she continued after an awkward pause. “We’ve got about an hour until dinner. Will you be staying with us, Anthony?”

Crowley smiled politely. “If that’s alright with you. I really just came by to drop off Will’s present.” The name sounded so wrong coming from his mouth. “I’d love to stay for dinner, if you’ll have me.”

The woman actually smiled at that and Aziraphale relaxed almost instantly. Was meeting the parents always this difficult? He’d never been in a relationship before that he could remember. How did humans do it? Especially those who had multiple serious relationships over the course of their lives. He felt as if he were about to faint.

“Want to give me a tour of the house?” Crowley asked, glancing back at Aziraphale who was currently staring unblinkingly at the closet door. The boy shook his head to clear his thoughts and then, realizing what that might be construed as, gave a verbal ‘yes’ before leading Crowley downstairs.

“Uh,” Aziraphale began, suddenly very nervous. He’d never had to do this before - never had a friend over before. His first real friend has been Newt and Anathama’s son, Titus, and they’d only met a few months ago. He’d been dealing with a lot at the time and it just made more sense for them to spend time at Titus’ house. Anathema had been helping him sort through his memories and she couldn’t very well do that at his house, with his parents there.

Aziraphale hadn’t had the courage to tell them what had happened to him yet. How did a teenage boy go about explaining to his parents that he was actually an angel that had been stationed at the bloody garden of eden, and had lived on earth for six thousand years but had died about seventeen years ago. Then he’d been reborn as a human, which is how they came to have a son in the first place, but he still had all of his angel memories burried somewhere deep inside his head. How was a person supposed to take information like that? Aziraphale was scared they would think he was crazy, so he hadn’t brought it up yet. It shouldn’t matter, really, he continually told himself. He and Crowley were humans now. They should be able to let all of that other stuff go. 

Except it was impossible to let it all go, wasn’t it? If he could, the human known as ‘Will’ wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with a boy he’d just met.

“Hey,” Crowley murmured softly, reaching out to squeeze Aziraphale’s hand gently. “It’s alright, angel. There’s no need to be nervous, ok? It’s just me.”

Aziraphale sighed. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself. It was just so important to him that his parents like Crowley. “I know,” he whispered, glancing up toward the top of the stairs. Thankfully, his mother was no longer there. “I just - I love you. And I want them to love you too.”

This simple statement caused Crowley’s face to turn bright red. He spluttered incoherently and dropped his hand from Aziraphale’s like he had been burned. “You - you can’t just _ say _ stuff like that…”

A soft smile appeared on Aziraphale’s face. It felt so good to say those words after all this time of being apart. “Why not, my dear? It’s true.”

Crowley made a few more unintelligible sounds, his honey colored eyes widening in shock. The former angel averted his eyes and tried focusing his attention on the room around them instead, pointing out things of interest. There really wasn’t much of interest down on this floor. The family room was small and consisted of a single old television and a set of lumpy couches. On one side of the room was a sliding glass door leading to the back yard while the opposite wall held two doors: one leading to his mother’s office and the other to a spare bedroom.

“The kitchen is through this door,” Aziraphale continued as they made their way up the stairs. “Mom’s in there prepping dinner. I can show you later if you like.”

The other boy nodded, a strange glint entering into his eyes. “Are we going to get to see your bedroom on this tour?”

His question was asked softly, as if Crowley was worried someone would overhear. Aziraphale glanced up at him, confusion etched on his face. “Yeah, it’s upstairs. We’re heading there next.” What a strange thing to ask. And why was the boy looking at him like that? Aziraphale suddenly felt like he had missed something.

“Honestly, angel. I really don’t understand you sometimes.”

Before he had a chance to ask Crowley what he was talking about, the boy began climbing the staircase, passing by the bathroom as he headed for Aziraphale’s bedroom door.

“Wait, Anthony,” Aziraphale started, proud of himself for remembering to use his name. “Don’t go in there yet - “

Too late. The boy was already inside. 

“Anthony!” Aziraphale tried again, ducking under the boy’s arm to stand in his line of sight, painfully aware that Crowley’s Christmas present was on display right there in front of them. “I said to wait.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” the boy taunted, a wide grin appearing on his face. “Got some kind of nasty secret to hide from me? I thought we shared everything with each other.”

A blush rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks. What should he do? If he explained himself, Crowley would undoubtedly see the painting sitting out on the easel. But if he said nothing, what would the other boy think? Aziraphale didn’t want Crowley to think he was keeping secrets. He stood frozen in the doorway like a deer in headlights.

“Relax, angel,” Crowley soothed, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. Aziraphale melted into the gesture, still not completely used to the overwhelming rush of heat in his body and love in his heart. How was this real life? How did this wonderfully gorgeous creature want _ him _? It made no sense. Aziraphale was a nobody. He was a reclusive nerd who only had one friend. There was nothing at all remotely special about him. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured as the other boy finally pulled away. “I…”

He saw as Crowley’s eyes went wide and Aziraphale knew his surprise had been discovered. 

“Angel,” he breathed, eyes transfixed on the artwork sitting up by the window. Crowley practically glided across the floor, sitting down gingerly at the edge of Aziraphale’s bed. The former angel began wringing his hands together out of habit, trying to quell the churning in his stomach.

“Sorry,” he began, not knowing what to do with his feet or his eyes or any part of him, really. “I finished it up just before you got here. I wasn’t expecting you, so I didn’t think to hide it.”

Crowley turned to look at him, tears in his eyes. Aziraphale instantly moved beside him, wrapping his arm awkwardly around the taller boy. What should he do next? What was Crowley feeling? Was he upset by something in the painting? Did it perhaps trigger a bad memory that Aziraphale didn’t know about? Was he touched by the image? Were those tears of joy? He wished there was some sort of book that he could read that would tell him what to do. How did he learn to deal with being partly human and partly...something else?

“Is that St. James Park?” The question caught Aziraphale off guard. For some reason, he hadn’t expected Crowley to recognize it so quickly.

“How did you - “ Aziraphale began, but stopped at the soft look coming from his beloved’s eyes.

“I would recognize that view anywhere,” he explained, reaching out a hand to grab onto Aziraphale’s. “We spent so many afternoons there. Look!” he exclaimed, a sudden joy in his voice. “You even got the ducks. And there’s the one I always killed whenever you annoyed me, ha!”

Aziraphale smiled. He didn’t remember the demon killing ducks, but he believed Crowley when he said it had happened. Out of all the things the boy had experienced over the past few months, the thought that Crowley had, as a demon, choked a duck on a piece of bread just to spite him did not even register as something alarming.

“You like it?” the blonde asked hesitantly. His heart was thudding loudly in his chest and Aziraphale was certain that Crowley could hear it loud and clear.

“I love it.”

The former angel was met with another kiss, soft and sweet and _ everything _he had ever wanted. Aziraphale felt his eyes flutter shut of their own accord. Reflexively, his hand came up to rest at the base of Crowley’s neck, fingers tangling in the flaming locks of hair. 

All at once, Aziraphale found he was no longer in his room. He was standing on the top of a very large stone wall overlooking a dry wasteland. There were stormclouds in the air that looked rather dreadful. He had the sudden desire to leave this place, but stood his ground firmly. He was supposed to be here and here he would remain until told otherwise.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Aziraphale turned to find a demon standing beside him, dressed in black robes, with iridescent black wings, flaming red hair and the most enticing golden eyes he had ever seen.

_ Well that went down like a lead balloon. _

Aziraphale watched the whole scene unfold before his eyes. It was strange, watching what happened knowing what he knew now, and yet not knowing at the same time. The pair discussed at length the concept of Good and Evil and whether The Plan was truly ineffable or not. All the while, Aziraphale could only stare at the creature beside him. Demons were supposed to be vicious, fowl creatures. But this one...this one was different. He was witty, and clever and brought up too many questions that Aziraphale didn’t want to ask, for fear of what might come next.

“Aziraphale.”

The angel was just stretching out his wing to sheild the demon from the first drops of rain when the sound of his name rang through the air around him. He blinked and he was back in his bedroom, Crowley glancing at him with concern and understanding in his eyes.

Aziraphale smiled and the other boy immediately relaxed. “Good,” Crowley breathed. “The way you stiffened, I thought it might be a bad one coming on.”

This had happened several times before. Aziraphale knew that his memories were due to come back bit by bit as time went on. So far, whenever one happened to fill his mind, he had a tendency to clam up, becoming completely absorbed in the memory. He’d only experienced one bad memory so far - one that involved the late 1800s and an inexplicable lack of Crowley. Some kind of fit had taken over his body and it had taken Crowley nearly fifteen minutes to snap him out of it.

“I like your hair long like this,” the former angel smiled, running his fingers through the long curls. “It’s just like how you had it when we first met.”

Crowley smiled. He would never say it outright, but he did enjoy when Aziraphale remembered bits about their history. “You were beautiful back then too,” the blonde admitted softly, eliciting a deep red blush from his partner. “Even if I would never have admitted it.”

Shifting his body slightly, Crowley reached a hand out and wrapped his long fingers around Aziraphale’s wrist, moving his hand until it was laying over top the silver package still in his arms. Huh. The boy had completely forgotten about it until now.

“Open it,” Crowley whispered softly. There wasn’t much else for him to do but obey.

The present was pristinely wrapped with firm creases and immaculately measured pieces of tape. Aziraphale was impressed. He had never seen corners so sharply formed on a wrapped gift, not even the ones he made. 

Silver paper gave way to a plain brown box. Aziraphale could see Crowley leaning towards him, ever so slightly, in anticipation. For a brief moment, he thought about carefully and slowly undoing the rest of the packaging just to torture the boy a bit longer, but the look on Crowley’s face in that moment was enough to make even Aziraphale tear through the rest of the packaging without a second thought.

Inside the box lay a single book. It was old, the faded burgundy cover showing obvious signs of wear, and smelled slightly of must and ancient parchment. The front held no illustrations or ornate designs, just six simple letters emblazoned in gold text.

"Hamlet.”

Once again, Aziraphale was whisked away to another place, another time, another life. He was standing in a theater, a handful of people scattered about. The angel was currently watching a young man on stage, reciting some lines from a new play that was set to open later that month.

All of a sudden, Crowley is there again. He still had long hair, but this time had chosen to grow out a small beard at the tip of his chin. The pair exchanged pleasantries and Aziraphale noted that this time they seem on much better terms, except for the part where the angel vehemently denies their friendship when asked. He knew it was a lie, and he also knew how bloody terrified he was that someone would find out how many times he had told that lie to others and to himself.

They discussed Edinburgh and it was decided that Aziraphale would be the one to go. In exchange, Crowley agreed to perform a little miracle of his own to help out an up and coming playwright, when in all actuality, Aziraphale knew the demon had done it for him.

He broke out of the vision when a soft presence appeared on the inside of his wrist. Crowley was looking over at him, golden eyes shining. Aziraphale had always loved those eyes, even when they’d seemed to frighten everyone else. They were no longer snakelike in appearance - Crowley’s entrance into the forces of humanity was enough to take care of that. Aziraphale was thankful that they had at least retained their color. He would have loved Crowley no matter the color of his eyes, but he’d gotten used to the gold and was happy he didn’t have to give it up.

“You know,” Aziraphale began after realizing Crowley was waiting for him to speak. “It’s all thanks to you that this play was as successful as it was. I should probably say ‘thank you’, on behalf of Mr. Shakespeare, of course.”

Crowley glowered, but the blonde could tell it was a playful shadow of how the boy would have felt in the past. As a human, Crowley seemed to take compliments on his good nature much more receptively. He wasn’t wonderful at it - they still had a lot to work, but it was progress.

“I know it’s not a priceless first edition,” Crowley started, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks, “But I thought you should have it anyways. It’s a part of our history, and well, it’s still old, so I thought it would fit into your collection if you ever decided to build it up again.”

Aziraphale beamed. This creature was so incredibly thoughtful it made his insides melt. “I love it.” Just to prove that fact to the other boy, Aziraphale hugged the book to his chest and scrunched up his face with adoration.

“Hey now!” Crowley protested, his golden eyes flashing. “I didn’t get you that book so you could love it more than me.” 

Before he could do anything to stop it, Azirphale found himself tackled onto the bed. He quickly placed the book safely on his desk so it was out of the way of the lanky boy who now had his arms wrapped firmly around Aziraphale’s torso.

“I can’t breathe,” the boy wheezed as he wrapped his arms around Crowley and pulled him tighter.

“You don’t seem to mind that,” Crowley responded into Aziraphale’s shoulder, the sound of his voice muffled by the cloth.

Aziraphale laughed. “If I have to go, what better way to do it than in your arms?”

Crowley’s reaction was immediate. A strangled cry emerged from his lips and he stiffened as if he’d been shot. Then, faster than Aziraphale thought possible, the boy sat up and pressed himself up against the wall on the opposite side of the bed. Raw anguish shone in his eyes and Aziraphale immediately regretted what he’d just said.

“Anthony. Crowley, I’m so sorry.” He reached out to place his hand on his beloved’s. “I didn’t mean to - “

“S’alright, angel.” Crowley was already coming back to him, his body relaxing with each passing second. Slowly, Aziraphale inched his way over to the other boy and wrapped his arms around the lanky body, squeezing tightly to assure Crowley that he was still here, very much alive.

Aziraphale knew that he had died as an angel, but Crowley absolutely refused to tell him how. It was in moments like these that Aziraphale could understand why. His love was traumatized by what had happened. It broke Aziraphale’s heart to see him like this.

“Boys?” his mother’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Dinner in fifteen. Come set the table please!”

The blonde hesitated a moment longer, looking up into Crowley’s eyes, trying to gauge whether he was ok to go downstairs or not. Upon meeting his gaze, Crowley smiled and leaned in for another chaste kiss, sending Aziraphale’s heart aflutter. Would he ever tire of doing that?

One more kiss and then they made their way downstairs. The kitchen door was open now and Aziraphale made his way inside, opening the drawer by the stove to pull out four sets of silverware.

“Can you put these on the table?” the younger boy asked Crowley. “Knives and spoons on the right and forks on the left. I’ll grab the plates and napkins.”

Crowley snorted from behind him, grabbing the utensils from his hands. “I’ve been out to eat with you _ countless _ times, angel. I know how to set a table.”

He leaned in to brush a kiss up against Aziraphale’s cheek, lips soft and warm. Once again, Aziraphale’s heart began to race and he resisted the urge to fling his arms around Crowley and bury his face in the gorgeous red hair. Had he always felt this overwhelmed by his feelings for Crowley? Or was this a side effect of being a seventeen year old boy?

“Excuse me.”

Both boys froze upon hearing that statement. Aziraphale’s blue eyes rose slowly to the doorway on the opposite side of the room where his father was currently standing and extremely disapproving look on his face.

“What was that?”

The words are so harsh that they practically cut Aziraphale to pieces. He remained frozen, eyes wide with panic. What was he supposed to do? Why was his father so upset?

Crowley shifted uncomfortably next to him. “You didn’t tell them?” his voice was soft, but not upset. At least that made one of them. Aziraphale’s mother had been washing some dishes when they’d walked in, and by the worried look on her face, she must have seen what transpired just like her husband.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale didn’t know who he was saying it to. What was happening? Why had the tension in the room increased so much? Why wouldn’t his heart stop racing. He felt like he was going to be sick. “I didn’t think - “

“You didn’t think to mention your party boy, lackluster, high school dropout of a boyfriend?” His father shot back. Aziraphale felt tears pooling in his eyes, and while some of them might be from the sorrow of hearing how quickly his father had been to judge Crowley, most of them were fueled with righteous anger. “I can see why not. It’s much easier to sneak out and see him when you’re pretending to spend time with his foster brother instead.”

Aziraphale turned to his mother, eyes wide. Did she feel this way too? The woman smiled at him sympathetically. “You really should have told us, Will. If we had known, we would have been much more hesitant to let you spend the night over at Titus’. It’s really not appropriate.”

This couldn’t be happening. Why were his parents doing this? Why were they being so cruel? He’d never known them to act in this way before. Sure, his parents had always been a bit overprotective, but this was something entirely different. There was real anger here. Disappointment. Like he’d failed them somehow.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, Mr. and Mrs. Downes,” Crowley began, trying to squeeze in some damage control. “But I just think - “

“No offense, Anthony,” Aziraphale heard his mother say. He was looking over at her, but he was having a hard time focusing on her face through the tears. “But you’re really not part of this discussion. This is between our family, which doesn’t include you.”

Aziraphale felt his heart breaking. Crowley, not a part of his family? It was impossible. Crowley had been the only part of his family for as long as the former angel could remember. He couldn’t imagine a life in which he wasn’t. Aziraphale had lived that life, for seventeen years, and it had been so very lonely. He never wanted to experience that again.

“I could be,” the red haired boy dared. He had always been so much braver than Aziraphale. “If you’d let me.”

Aziraphale’s father snorted at that, in an almost amused sort of way. “Do you honestly think you’re good enough for my son?”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. With that remark, Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s resolve crumble. The boy was silent for a moment, then took a step away, leaving a painful void where he once stood.

_ He’s leaving _ , part of Aziraphale’s brain was screaming at him as he remained frozen in the middle of the kitchen, facing off against a full frontal assault of disapproval and disdain from two of the people he cared about most in this world. _ He’s leaving and he’s never coming back. You’re going to lose him. _

If there was a single thought that could fuel Aziraphale to action, it was that one. He immediately whirled around to find Crowley passing through the kitchen door on his way out.

“Anthony, wait!” he called, reaching for the boy who was no longer there. Aziraphale ran toward him, calling out again. “Anthony!”

The red haired boy stopped, but did not turn around. His hand was already on the front door, just a single motion from pushing it open and disappearing forever. 

“S’alright, angel,” he murmured, head hung low. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Maybe in a few years they’ll come around. Let you make your own decisions. What’s a few more years when I’ve waited this long to have you? I’ll be fine.”

The door opened and closed again and Aziraphale was left standing in shock, trying to process all that had happened. He knew he needed to act. He needed to do something _ now _ before he lost everything he had ever cared about, but his brain just couldn’t keep up. It had always struggled to keep up, always gone too slowly for the people around him. Aziraphale couldn’t allow that to hold him back any further.

He grabbed for his coat, legs already propelling himself forward after the love of his life. Aziraphale barely heard his parents approach until his father called out to him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Will?”

Aziraphale whirled around, his blue eyes blazing. He had been an angel once, and although most of his memories were still gone, he had enough of them back to remember what righteous fury felt like. The boy channeled all those emotions into what he said next.

“How _ dare _you,” he growled back. “How dare you stand there and judge him! You never even tried to get to know him. Anthony is the most amazing person I have ever met. He is smart, and thoughtful, and patient, and GOOD. Even though the world would expect him to be anything but after all the shit he’s been through.”

The former angel took a deep breath, and then plowed on, his entire body shaking. “He was kicked out of his home for daring to be the person he was created to be. He’s spent his entire life being told by everyone around him that he’s not good enough, that he’ll never be good enough. What the hell does that even mean? Who are you - who is anyone to decide what is good enough? I love him! Is that good enough? Will that ever be enough?” The tears were pouring from his eyes now. Faintly, he heard a car door opening. He was out of time.

“Don’t wait up.” He glared at his parents and then, coat in hand, walked out the front door, letting it slam behind him.

* * *

Crowley was devastated. 

This was supposed to be a fun visit - a chance to exchange gifts with each other before the holidays. Even if he’d only been allowed to stay for an hour or two, the boy would have gladly taken the time if it meant getting to spend it with his angel.

The humans’ words echoed angrily in his mind as Crowley stalked down the front stairs. He had so desperately wanted them to like him, because it meant so much to Aziraphale that they did. Crowley had been nothing but kind, polite, respectful. He had done everything exactly as he should have and they had hated him anyway. Even after being gifted a new life, people still hated him. What had he ever done to deserve that?

_ Do you honestly think you’re good enough for my son? _ Those words had cut so deep that Crowley had momentarily forgotten how to breathe, which was a problem now that he was human. Of course not. Of course Crowley didn’t believe he was good enough for Aziraphale. How could he? How could a demon ever hope to be good enough for anyone, let alone the best angel in all of Heaven? 

If that’s all he had been - just a simple demon - Crowley wouldn’t have been good enough, but there might have been a chance. Perhaps he could have worked his way up. Perhaps he could have earned Aziraphale’s love fairly and made himself good enough. But all hope was lost for that now. After what he had done, after all the creatures he’d hurt - there was no coming back from that. He had been a fool to hope that their love for each other would ever be enough.

He reached the car door and pulled it open, probably a bit more forcefully than he should have. Learning to drive as a human had taken some minor adjustments, but Crowley had gotten the hang of it. He no longer had the ability to miracle obstacles out of his way, so the boy had been forced to slow down significantly when he drove. Thankfully, the Bentley was still in pristine condition. It ran on petrol now, which Crowley had to remember to fill it up with when it ran low, but everything else was just as it always had been. 

“Anthony!” The voice reached his ears, but Crowley didn’t hear it. His mind was too preoccupied with the familiar shattering of his heart. It felt different this time. Before, the pain had felt like a hurricane, ripping his heart out of his chest and shredding it into a million tiny pieces. Watching Aziraphale die had been the worst experience of his life, and yet this was somehow just as bad. Demon and Angel had become human for Aziraphale’s parents, so they wouldn’t have to forget their son. Aziraphale could have chosen to become an angel again. He and Crowley could have gone back to the way things always had been, but the angel had chosen differently. He had chosen to stay with his parents. Parents who knew the truth about Crowley, who knew he would never be worthy of the blue eyed, beautiful angel that shone like a beacon of light amidst the darkness. Crowley had lost Aziraphale again. It was a different kind of loss, but a loss all the same.

“Crowley, don’t you take another step into that godforsaken machine.”

The use of is real name stopped Crowley in his tracks. He turned around to find Aziraphale rushing down the front steps, a tan overcoat hanging from his arm. Blonde curls bounced with each step he took. Tears were running down the boy’s face and Crowley felt his stomach lurch. He couldn’t take this - seeing his angel so upset. Aziraphale deserved all the happiness this world had to offer.

Without a second thought, Aziraphale launched himself at Crowley, wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s waist. Crowley stumbled back momentarily. He hadn’t been expecting such an embrace, although he probably should have. Gently, he steadied the both of them, bringing a hand to rest in Aziraphale’s curls, his golden eyes softening with the love that swelled in his heart.

“My parents are absolute wankers,” he mumbled into Crowley’s chest. The red haired boy laughed at that, but did not say anything further. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, stomach churning as he waited to hear what the angel would say next.

Eventually, Aziraphale pulled back and wiped at the tear stains on his cheeks. He sniffed and looked up at Crowley with the brightest blue eyes and the boy felt himself melt. He would do absolutely anything for this creature. All Aziraphale had to do was ask.

“Come on,” Aziraphale sniffed, lowering his hands to his sides. “Let’s go home.” He made to move in front of the car, like he was heading for the passenger side door. Crowley reached out and grabbed his angel’s arm, locking gazes with the boy as he turned around.

“What about your folks?” The question came out much less confident than he would have liked. It was at moments like these that Crowley wished he had a pair of sunglasses on him. His eyes may not be demon-like anymore, but they still gave away too many emotions for his taste.

Aziraphale’s expression softened. Golden eyes wide, Crowley watched as the boy took several steps back to him. Without fanfare, Aziraphale reached up and pulled Crowley into a deep kiss, not caring if there was anyone else around to see them.

“My dearest,” he breathed and Crowley felt his legs turn to jelly. How could a single word do such embarrassing things to him? “I will never _ ever _choose a side that is not ours again. I love you. More than anyone else in this world or the next and I choose you. I will always choose you.”

Crowley couldn’t help the smile growing on his face even if he didn’t entirely believe Aziraphale. Gently, he returned the kiss and then walked the shorter boy around to the passenger’s side door, opening it like a gentleman would for a lady. He did _ not _ look up toward the bay window at the house behind them to see if the boy’s parents were watching. That would be spiteful and despite what they had said about him, Crowley didn’t want to appear in any way that was less than perfect. 

That didn’t stop him from hoping they’d seen it all.

The boys drove away, heading back to Crowley’s home with Anathema and Newton and their son Titus. Upon becoming human, Crowley found that he had no home. He was a teenager, an actual human teenager. He had no family, no place to live, practically nothing to his name that he could access while still underage. Anathema and Newton had stepped up immediately and miraculously all the paperwork appeared in order. The Device-Pulsifer family would act as his guardians until Crowley was of age. Then, he would inherit a sum of money that had most definitely not existed before and he would be free to live his life however he saw fit.

Crowley didn’t care what kind of life he had, as long as it was one with his angel.

For a while, they rode in silence, Aziraphale staring out the window as the trees flew by. He was deep in thought, Crowley recognized, but it wasn’t one of his memories causing the silence. Those always seemed to come on so abruptly. No, the angel looked peaceful, albeit a bit saddened. All Crowley wanted to do was reach his hand across the way and grab onto Aziraphale’s. Something inside him said that might not be the best idea.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” Crowley asked eventually, unable to stand not knowing anymore. Had Aziraphale been ashamed to tell his parents about Crowley? Had he been waiting for the right time? Was he worried Crowley would come off as too evil?

Aziraphale turned to look at him, then reached his hand over to do what Crowley had been too afraid to. “Oh, my dear. It’s nothing like what you might be thinking,” he gushed. From the brief glance Crowley could get while driving, Aziraphale looked a little worried and upset. It was impossible to know if the emotions were directed at Crowley or at himself.

“I just didn’t think to,” his angel admitted. “Loving you is so..._ natural _ to me, I was oblivious to the fact that it might need explaining to the people closest to me. I only ever spend time with my parents, you, and your new family. And you know how they already know about us. I didn’t think to explain things to my parents because I’ve never had to explain it to anyone before. I hope you can forgive me.”

Crowley snorted at the request. A demon? Forgive an angel? Preposterous. Aziraphale had nothing to be forgiven for.

Realizing that his reaction may have caused some unintended heartache for the former angel, Crowley offered up his best smile. “Of course, angel. I’m just happy you’re here with me. Will you be spending the night?”

_ Please, oh please, say yes. _Crowley couldn’t help his inner voice from chanting. He always slept so much better when Aziraphale was around. Deep down, Crowley knew there was nothing ethereal or occult about them anymore, but somehow the former angel was still able to keep the nightmares away with just his presence.

“At least that long,” Aziraphale muttered. “It’s going to take a lot of work on my parent’s part to get me to come back anytime soon.”

They arrived at the Device-Pulsifer household not long after and were greeted with warm hugs and general holiday cheer. Titus was dressed from head to toe in an outfit that made him look like a genuine Christmas elf. Anathema invited both boys in with a smile and a promise of cookies and milk on the way.

Wanting to distract Aziraphale from the sadness that seemed to hang around him, Crowley donned one of the extra aprons and began to tackle the mound of sugar cookie dough that still needed to be rolled out. After hanging his coat by the front door, Aziraphale joined him, rolling up his sleeves so they would be completely out of the way.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie tonight?” Titus asked excitedly as he shoved another bite of cookie dough into his mouth. Tradition mandated that the boy try and race his mother to see if he could eat more dough than she could use to produce the cookies. Currently, Anathema was in the lead, as her son could simply not stop talking for long enough to digest much of anything. He tended to get that way whenever his best friend came around. “I was thinking either ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ or ‘March of the Wooden Soldiers.”

Aziraphale laughed and Crowley was happy to hear at least one of them knew what the other teenager was talking about. “March of the Wooden Soldiers isn’t a Christmas movie, Titus.”

The younger boy stuck out his tongue, grabbing for another unbaked cookie that Aziraphale had just finished cutting out. “It has Santa Claus in it.”

“So does The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but that doesn’t make them Christmas movies.”

Crowley laughed. He had no idea what they were talking about. Movies had never really been his thing, but seeing Aziraphale get all riled up over what constituted a ‘Christmas movie’ made his heart soar. “What does a movie have to have in order to be considered a Christmas Movie, angel?” he asked.

The boy paused for a moment, lips morphing into a contemplative frown. “I feel like the majority of the movie has to be directly related to Christmas. At least 51 percent. Otherwise, it’s just a movie where Christmas makes a debut.”

Titus grinned, as if he had been expecting this argument. “By that logic, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is decidedly _ not _ a Christmas movie.”   
  
Aziraphale gasped, placing his hand over his heart as if he had been mortally wounded. Crowley busted out laughing, the events that had transpired earlier that day completely forgotten. This. This was where he belonged. How could he have ever thought otherwise? 

They finally decided on Miracle on 34th Street because it was a classic and Crowley had never seen it. After dinner, the family sat down together as a whole as Anathema popped in the DVD. She would have asked Newton to do it, but with their luck, something would have malfunctioned and they would have been out a DVD player until they could get to the store and purchase a new one.

Crowley settled down into the couch and lifted his arm up so Aziraphale could lean up against him. The boy’s body was so warm that Crowley simply had to pull him in tighter. He smelled like old books and tea leaves, which made no sense since Aziraphale didn’t own a book shop and hadn’t had any tea today. Logic didn’t seem to matter to the boy. He always seemed to smell like that and Crowley would be forever grateful.

Just as the opening scene began to play, the phone began to ring. Anathema was on her feet in an instant, cutting off the noise abruptly halfway through the second ring. Crowley barely noticed the conversation, his eyes too focused on the movie and the boy wrapped in his arms that was trying and failing to hold in his enthusiasm for the movie they were about to watch. 

“Aziraphale,” Anathema’s voice breaks through their comfortable state. Crowley felt his stomach drop. He wanted to pull his angel in tighter and never let go, but he didn’t. Instead, Crowley took a deep breath and released the boy as he clambered off the couch and hopped up the step into the kitchen.

“Hello?”

Crowley tried not to listen in. He really, honestly, tried. But he couldn’t help it. The phone call had to be from Aziraphale’s parents. They were going to force him to come home. He was still seventeen, after all, at least for a few more months. They could make him leave if they wanted to. And what would Crowley do then? He didn’t want to be alone tonight. He didn’t want to be alone _ any _night, but especially not tonight. Not after such a disastrous day.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Aziraphale’s voice was curt. The sound of it reminded Crowley of the time he’d asked the angel for holy water. He wondered if Aziraphale was as angry with his parents as he had been with Crowley that day.

“I already told you, I’m not coming home tonight. I’m staying with Anthony.” Crowley’s heart fluttered at this. Aziraphale really was too good for him. “Yeah, I can come home tomorrow after breakfast. We can talk about it then.”

“Right. Goodnight.”

The phone clicked and Crowley’s ears strained to hear the approaching footsteps of his angel. Moments later, Aziraphale flopped back down onto the couch, snuggling up even closer under Crowley’s arms, pressing a kiss into his shoulder.

“Right,” the former angel said, turning his attention back to the screen. “Where were we?”

Before he knew it, the night was over and everyone was retiring to bed. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and the energy in the air was palpable. There were so many things to look forward to. Titus was especially excited about showing Crowley all the ins and outs of a Device-Pulsifer Family Christmas. He chattered on and on about the caroling and handing out cookies and manning the toy drive as the boys made their way upstairs to their respective bedrooms.

“You are welcome over at any time, Aziraphale,” Anathema had said as she bid the boys goodnight. Crowley smiled as he watched his angel hug her tightly. She had been an answer to both of their prayers when they hadn’t even known they’d needed her. 

When they were finally alone, Crowley reached out to his angel and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Aziraphale sighed against his lips and angled his head so Crowley could kiss him harder, pull him tighter, never let him go. The former demon took the opportunity to do just that. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale began when he finally pulled away. Crowley felt his heartbeat spike, nervous energy entering him once more. His angel sounded apprehensive. “Would you mind terribly coming with me to talk to my parents tomorrow morning after breakfast?”

The boy frowned. “Are you sure they want me there, angel? I don’t want to make things more complicated for you than they already are.”

Aziraphale nodded and Crowley leaned in to brush his lips against the boy’s forehead. He would do anything for his angel. Anything at all.

“Of course, angel,” he sighed, overwhelmed with contentment in that moment. If he’d known life with Aziraphale could be this wonderful, even human life, Crowley would have found a way to make this happen a long time ago. “Anything for you, love.”

Love. For the longest time, Crowley had been convinced demons couldn’t feel love. He’d been convinced that these strange feelings towards the Principality had been anything but - mild entertainment, appreciation, perhaps even lust, but love? It was impossible. Yet, somewhere along the lines, he’d realized that it was a lie. He did love Aziraphale. Couldn’t imagine a life without him. 

“My mom said they owed you an apology,” Aziraphale murmured as he settled into Crowley’s arms, blue eyes fluttering closed momentarily. “So that’s probably a good sign for us.” He yawned, pressing his nose into Crowley’s chest. The red haired boy smiled softly, gazing down at his beautiful angel.

“Crowley?” the small voice asked some time later. Crowley was still awake. He tended to stay awake as long as physically possible when Aziraphale was around. “Are you actually going to get some sleep tonight, or are you going to stay awake the whole time watching me?”

The boy stiffened. Aziraphale could be so oblivious when it counted, but when it came to things Crowley didn’t want him to notice, he had eyes like an eagle. 

“Angel…” Crowley trailed off, trying desperately to force the images of fire and smoke from his mind. He hadn’t told Aziraphale the story of how he’d lost him - of how the demon had slept with the angel in his arms for the first time and awoken to their world on fire. Aziraphale didn’t remember. Not yet. And Crowley hoped he never would.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aziraphale reminded him. How he always seemed to sense the root of the issue was beyond Crowley. “And we’ve got a whole host of angels looking out for us. They’re not going to let anything happen to me or to you. We’re safe. And we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

His faith in Heaven was inspiring. Crowley hoped with the change in management that things would truly be different. Out of all the Archangels, he trusted Remiel the most to do what was right. To show kindness and compassion. Remiel, out of all of them, understood what it meant to be human. He understood how precious this world was and Crowley believed the Archangel would do what he could to see it prosper. He also believed that Remiel deeply regretted what had happened to Aziraphale and wanted the former angel to have a wonderful life here on earth. So they probably were safe.

Crowley was still hesitant. He’d believed in Heaven once, a long time ago, and look how that turned out.

“I love you, Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured, allowing himself to close his eyes and breathe in the wonderfully familiar scent that was Aziraphale. Within moments, he was asleep.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this, angel?” Crowley asked from behind a familiar pair of shaded glasses. “I can drive you back to Anathema’s right now, if you’d like.”

Aziraphale shook his head, steeling his eyes against the blue-grey door that lead inside to where his parents were surely waiting. 

“I’m sure,” Aziraphale breathed out, clutching the Bently’s inside door handle far too tightly. “It can’t be any worse than yesterday, right?” Crowley said nothing, which likely meant that he could think of dozens of ways it could be worse, but wasn’t about to mention any of them now. Aziraphale glanced over at his love, nerves threatening to bring back the extra slices of bacon he’d consumed at breakfast.

Crowley reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m with you. No matter what.”

The boys entered the house hand in hand. Aziraphale’s parents were waiting in the sitting room, seated side by side on the couch. Their faces were painted with a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and regret. The blonde felt a little of the weight on his shoulders begin to lift. He squeezed Crowley’s hand reassuringly, even though he felt like the one who needed the reassurance more. These humans only meant something to Crowley because Aziraphale cared for them. He was the one who so desperately sought their approval, not the former demon. No matter how this went, it would affect Aziraphale more.

“Boys,” Aziraphale’s father began, standing to address them both. He turned his head to meet both of their gazes and in a surprise turn of events, Crowley actually removed his sunglasses. “Your mother and I owe the both of you a sincere apology for what was said last night. It was unacceptable for us to jump to so many conclusions without stopping to talk to you about things first.”

The woman beside him nodded. “Will, we’ve always taught you to not judge a book by its cover - to always listen before acting and we did the exact opposite. We said some horrible things that are very likely not true, Anthony, and for that we are truly sorry. You obviously mean a lot to Will, and all we really want is his happiness.”

“We also wanted to add,” Aziraphale’s father cut in before the boy could respond, “that our initial reaction last night was not fueled by anything you did, Anthony.” He paused, running a hand over his mustache. “It’s just - we pride ourselves on being a tight knit family. We thought you would be comfortable coming to us with anything, Will. And it hurt to see that you had hidden something so important from us. I took that hurt out on the both of you and it was wrong of me.”

His mother sighed, looping her arm through her husband’s. “We both did. And we hope that in time you both can forgive us.”

Aziraphale frowned. He’d been so afraid that his parents had reacted the way they had because of their feelings towards Crowley. To find that it had been mostly due to his complete obliviousness was almost a relief. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell the two of you about Anthony,” Aziraphale started, glancing up at the taller boy. Crowley was looking over at the two adults with a neutral expression on his face. His eyes displayed a mixture of hurt and apprehension and Aziraphale doubted anyone but himself would have been able to recognize that. “I didn’t mean to keep our relationship a secret. I just didn’t know how to explain.”

“Honey,” his mother had tears in her eyes. “You know that your father and I don’t care what your preferences are, right? Whether you’re gay or bi or whatever else, we just want you to be happy.”

The boy frowned. Where was this coming from? Was that what they had been so worried about on the phone last night? When Aziraphale had talked to her on the phone, his mother had been in tears and he hadn’t quite been able to figure out why. Was this the reason?

“I’m not gay,” he began, glancing up at Crowley. The boy was looking down at him with amusement. This caused Aziraphale to pause. What in the world could possibly be so funny at this moment?

“Oh, you’re not, are you?” Crowley was teasing him. This was hardly the time for a practical joke. He and his parents were having a serious conversation about his supposed sexual identity and the boy just had to go and - 

“Oh.” Realization hit him like a block of ice. “OH!”

Crowley laughed, really and truly laughed. It filled the whole room and made Aziraphale blush to no end. He felt like he was going to faint. 

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Crowley couldn’t contain himself. “I cannot believe you angel, sometimes you are too much.”

Aziraphale glowered. “I didn’t forget,” he muttered, mostly to himself, because, yes. Of course he had forgotten. His memories were a jumbled mess and in half of them he and Crowley weren’t even gendered beings. So how in the world was he supposed to identify himself as gay when he hadn’t even had a sex for millenia. 

When the former demon had calmed himself down, Aziraphale turned towards his very confused looking parents and smiled hesitantly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not even bothering to unpack that one. They wouldn’t understand anyway. “I don’t really identify myself as gay, so you caught me off guard.” They waited for him to continue. Aziraphale took a deep breath, praying that they would understand.

“The concept of being gay, as I understand it, involves one boy being attracted to other boys,” Aziraphale started, explaining things as logically as he could think to explain them. “I am a boy, attracted to another boy.” He gestured towards Crowley, who gave a flashy bow, eliciting smiles from both Aziraphale’s parents. “But that’s it.”

Silence hung around them for a moment before Aziraphale’s mother spoke up. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Another deep breath. Getting all this out there was a lot harder than he’d originally thought it would be. “I mean to say that Anthony is it, Mom. I have eyes for him and only him. I love him, and I’d love him in whatever form he presented himself as. Male, female. It doesn’t matter to me so long as it’s Anthony.” He stopped and looked them both in the eyes, noticing how Crowley had frozen beside him as the words spilled from his mouth. “I need the both of you to understand that this isn’t some passing thing to me. I intend for the two of us to be together for the rest of our lives, however long that may be.”

His mother smiled, and Aziraphale could instantly tell she didn’t understand. “I know it may seem like that now, sweetheart. But you’re young. And things may change.”  
  
Aziraphale stood his ground. He could budge on a lot of things, but not this. “I respect that you believe that, Mom, but you’re wrong. And someday you’ll see that.”

They did not discuss the topic any further, for which Aziraphale was grateful. Crowley had seemingly stopped absorbing information as soon as Aziraphale had mentioned having eyes for only him. A gentle squeeze of his hand brought the boy back to the present moment. 

“I, for one,” Aziraphale continued when the silence became too awkward to stand, “forgive the both of you for what was said last night.” He turned to Crowley, a soft smile on his face. “And I want you to know that there’s no pressure for you to forgive anytime soon, ok? I know it isn’t easy for you.”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s fine. I forgive them.” Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open wide. Then, if to prove his point, Crowley turned to Aziraphale’s parents and reiterated the sentiment. “I forgive you.”

“Just like that?” Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. A demon, forgiving a pair of humans like it was nothing? It was unheard of. He had never seen Crowley forgive as easily as that before. He had never seen Crowley forgive anyone ever. How had it been so easy for him?

The boy laughed. “You’re acting like I’ve never forgiven anyone before, angel.”

“But you haven’t,” the boy spluttered. “When did you - ?”

_ We’re not friends! I don’t even like you! _

Aziraphale’s voice caught in his throat, blue eyes opening in horror as the memory washed over him. “The bandstand. Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.” Tears pooled in his eyes, but the boy did not try to wipe them away this time.

“Hey,” Crowley shushed. The adults were still in the room, but both boys had completely forgotten their existence. “It’s alright, angel. Remember? I just said I forgave you. That was eons ago. I hardly ever think of it anymore.”

It was a lie. Aziraphale knew it was a lie. He knew that every bad memory that Crowley refused to share with him was one that kept him up at night, but it was almost Christmas, and they had a whole lifetime to dwell on things like that. Right now, all he wanted to do was spend some quality time with the family he’d found here on earth, while he still could.

“Did you guys save any of the ornaments?” Aziraphale asked, turning to face his parents. “I’d love it if we could all put them on the tree together.”

His mother smiled warmly at the both of them. She reached out her arms and drew them into a hug. “Of course,” she murmured, leading the way into the dining room where several boxes were stacked on the table. “Help yourselves.”

There was something about gathering together around the holidays that just made everything better. Azirphale and Crowley had been in existence for many Christmases, but they found that none had ever been quite as special as this one. After millennia of waiting, they were finally together, able to freely enjoy each other’s company and bask in the love they had for one another. It was something that they both knew they would never forget - in this life and whatever lay beyond.


	2. The Prom Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale go to prom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to preface this chapter with the note that I am an American and have zero insight to the UK public schooling system and how their dances usually go. I am drawing from my own experiences here so if anything is inaccurate, I apologize. 
> 
> Yes, unfortunately that rule mentioned here that puts restrictions on who can be brought as a date to prom was a rule at my school. It happens, people. And it makes me very upset and angry.

Aziraphale rung his hands together nervously in front of his waist as he waited in line to purchase prom tickets. He wasn’t particularly nervous about the prospect of buying the tickets. That was as easy as simply handing over the money and making sure he didn’t accidentally leave the tickets lying on the table when he left. The boy was all jittery because he still had no idea how to go about asking Crowley to go with him.

The former angel was a romantic at heart, but he was hopeless when it came to executing romantic gestures. That was Crowley’s specialty. Crowley was the one who encouraged all of London to go see plays Aziraphale liked, and saved precious books from exploding in a bomb raid and talked about running away to the stars. All Aziraphale knew how to do was read books and paint, and he couldn’t very well give Crowley a picture every time he wanted to express his emotions, could he?

Weeks had gone by and Aziraphale was still struggling with how to ask Crowley to accompany him to the dance. Prom-posals were all the rage these days with kids coming up with the most outlandish ideas to ask their dates to the dance. Of course the boy would say ‘yes’. Aziraphale knew how much Crowley loved him. He was also a former demon, which meant a high school dance was right up his alley. Crowley would most definitely enjoy himself, but Aziraphale couldn’t just  _ ask  _ him to come. It would seem so insincere.

“Hey Will.”

Aziraphale turned around, surprised to find Titus standing right behind him. How had he not noticed his friend before this? Smiling, the boy greeted him warmly.

“This is Kelsey,” Titus continued, gesturing to the pretty girl with dark curly hair standing beside him. Aziraphale blinked. He hadn’t noticed her either. Was it possible to be any more distracted?

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Aziraphale said, holding out his hand in greeting. The girl took it happily. “Are you both waiting for prom tickets too?”

The line inched forward. Titus smiled. “We sure are! Kelsey’s going to be my date.”

The girl beamed. “I asked him this morning,” she stated, matter-of-factly. 

Aziraphale’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, you did? How did you go about asking, exactly, because I have been quite stuck trying to come up with something for weeks and the dance is less than a month away, and I just want it to be perfect.”

Kelsey smiled sweetly, touched by his sentiments. Titus laughed out loud.

“Are you kidding? Anthony will say ‘yes’ no matter how you ask, Will. He’s over the moon for you. You don’t need any kind of fancy gesture.”

Heat rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I know,” he murmured. “But he’s always doing stuff like that for me. I wanted to return the gesture.”

“Find out what he likes,” Kelsey suggested. “And do something with that.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. What sort of things did Crowley like? His car. Aziraphale wasn’t sure there was much he could do with the Bentley. He supposed, had he still been an angel, Aziraphale could have persuaded the car to play some sort of romantic song, to set the mood. Now that they were humans, the car didn’t really seem to bend to either of their wills.

Crowley also liked plants. Aziraphale had remembered the first time he’d ever seen the demon’s collection. It had been the night after Armageddon. The angel’s bookshop had been burned to the ground and he’d had nowhere else to go. Aziraphale didn’t remember the bookshop burning or what had lead the two of them to the bench on the side of the road, but he remembered Crowley’s offer and how it had made his heart leap with nervous excitement. Even then he had loved the demon, far more than he was willing to admit at the time. 

The garden he’d created had been lush and green and spectacularly beautiful. Aziraphale had praised each and every one of those plants, much to Crowley’s chagrin. Perhaps he could do something with plants - arrange a nice bouquet or fill recreate the garden in Crowley’s bedroom or - 

“Next.”

Aziraphale’s thoughts were interrupted by the English teacher that was currently manning the ticket sales during their lunch hour. The boy stepped forward and smiled at her warmly. He’d had Mrs. Miller his freshman year and had quite enjoyed her class.

“I’d like to buy two tickets please,” Aziraphale announced, pulling out his wallet to grab the bills he would need. Mrs. Miller started jotting down some information on her clipboard.

“Right. I’ll need both you and your date’s homeroom teachers.”

“Uh,” Aziraphale hesitated. “Mine is Mr. Hendricks. My date is homeschooled.”

The woman nodded, grabbing another sheet of paper from the stack beside her. “Not a problem,” she continued. “You’ll just need to fill this out real quick.”

She waited patiently as Aziraphale filled in the paperwork. It was an emergency contact for Crowley, which made sense for them to have. The other boy didn’t attend this school and if something were to happen at the dance, it was only reasonable that the chaperones have pertinent information on each student in attendance.

The boy handed it back when he’d finished and she looked it over carefully, making sure he hadn’t missed anything important. After a few moments her face fell.

“I’m sorry, Will,” she sighed. The boy frowned. Whatever did she have to be sorry about? “Mr. Crowley won’t be able to attend the dance with you.”

Aziraphale stopped breathing for a moment, his blue eyes widening. “Why not?” He managed to croak out after a little while. Blood was already rushing to his cheeks and he could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

“The school has a policy,” the woman explained wearily, “that students cannot invite outside guests of the same gender.”

“That’s bullshit!” Kelsey growled from behind him, but Aziraphale barely heard her.

“Language, Miss Atkins.”

Crowley couldn’t come with him...because they were the same gender? That was preposterous. Since when had a silly little thing like gender ever mattered? He’d only even had one for the past seventeen years. Hardly enough time to be making a big fuss over.

_ I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go. _

He was sitting in the Bentley. It was dark outside and there were neon lights everywhere, filtering in through the windows and illuminating the demon’s face beside him. Crowley was looking at him - staring through him - from behind those sunglasses and the angel was at a loss for words.

He wanted to go back to his bookshop. He wanted to drag Crowley in after him and lock the doors on both of them and never come out again, because if he didn’t then the demon would go and do something stupid and Aziraphale would  _ lose  _ him. The tartan patterned thermos, carefully wedged between Crowley’s legs, stared back at him with menace. Aziraphale wanted to snatch it back, toss it out the window, get it  _ away _ from the demon before something irreversible was done. 

Aziraphale couldn’t do any of those things. He was an angel. Crowley was a demon. That simple fact had driven a wedge between them for all of eternity.  _ That  _ was what kept them apart when all Aziraphale wanted was for them to be together. And the frightening part was, they could be together. If Aziraphale asked Crowley to drive him back to the bookshop, he would. He’d done so countless times before. The angel could invite him in and they could spend all evening together, laughing and talking. Being friends...perhaps even more.

And wouldn’t that be just as much of a death sentence as what Aziraphale had just given him? He’d never be able to live with himself if something happened to Crowley because of him. It was all just too much, too fast.

_ “You go too fast for me Crowley.” _

In the blink of an eye, Aziraphale was out of the car. If he stayed any longer, he would surely break. Even then, he could feel the tears brimming in his eyes as his heart began to fray at the edges. Why did everything have to be so complicated? He cared for the demon, more than anything else on this planet. Why did that have to be such a bad thing?

“Shit.” A voice echoed in his mind, but Aziraphale barely heard it. He was too busy walking away from the Bentley as fast as his legs would carry him. A miracle would have been quicker, but the angel was not confident in his ability to abstain from teleporting himself back to wherever Crowley was.

“Aziraphale.”

He was standing back in the high school, as if he had never left. Aziraphale blinked, turning around toward the voice. He had expected to see Crowley there, standing beside him, hand wrapped around his wrist. Instead, it was Titus.

“You back?” the boy asked softly. 

Aziraphale nodded, realizing tears were already streaming down his face. How utterly embarrassing. He could feel the eyes of every person in the room turned toward him. What had they seen while he’d been remembering? Had he said anything out loud? Did they think he was having a reaction to not being allowed to bring his desired date to a stupid school dance?

It was all suddenly too much for his teenage mind to handle. “Terribly sorry,” Aziraphale muttered as he quickly ran out the door and took cover in the nearest bathroom where surely he wouldn’t be bothered.

* * *

Crowley stared at the paper in front of him, willing the numbers to rearrange themselves in the proper positions. He knew this problem had a correct solution. Math wasn’t like English, where you could talk your way in and out of any solution, so long as you had a good enough reason. Math only had one real solution, and for the life of him, Crowley could not figure this one out.

“This is pointless, Book Girl,” the former demon huffed, throwing his pencil down dramatically onto the table. Anathema barely looked up from her book, unimpressed by her foster son’s antics. “Why am I even doing this?”

“Because,” the woman stated simply. “You’re not a demon anymore. Humans can’t poof money or materials into existence. They have to earn the things they have. And in order to do that, humans get something called a job so they can have money so they can buy things. And people who hand out jobs tend to look for some sort of proof that you know what you’re doing. Like a degree.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But I don’t need a job to get money, right? You said Remiel miracled up enough for me to use.”

The boy watched as Anathema’s eyes narrowed. She sighed, marking her page with a thin sheet of paper before putting the book down. “Yes. But life is about more than making money, Crowley. You should find something meaningful to do with it. Something you enjoy, that you can talk to Aziraphale about. A high school degree will help you do that.”

He knew everything she said was true. Crowley also knew that Aziraphale wanted them to go to University together, which meant he had to do well enough on this test. 

Before Crowley could open his mouth to utter another syllable of complaint, the front door opened. The boy’s heart leaped in his chest and he struggled not to look too eager as Titus walked through with a strange female on his tail. She wasn’t exactly strange for a human. In fact, she was rather pretty. But she was a stranger to Crowley and that was what made her strange.

The door shut behind them and Crowley found himself standing, about to open his mouth and make a teasing comment about Titus acting like his father for once instead of his mother. Anathema would never have forgotten to hold the door open, especially not for Aziraphale. Newton, on the other hand…

Words died in his throat when he realized Aziraphale was not with them.

“Where is he?” Crowley asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Aziraphale was supposed to be here. Today was Wednesday. They spent Wednesdays here, together, after school. Why wasn’t Aziraphale here?

The boy knew it was silly to think something had happened. If it had, surely someone would have told him by now. The look on Titus’ face wasn’t one of horror or shock or sadness. He simply looked apprehensive.

“Sorry, Anthony,” he slipped into using the former demon’s human name, most likely for the girl’s sake. “He’s not coming today. Said he wasn’t feeling well, but I reckon it’s because he’s too embarrassed.”

“He shouldn’t be,” the girl beside Titus huffed. Crowley didn’t have to be a demon to tell she was angry. “They’re the ones who should be embarrassed. It’s an idiotic, homophobic, discriminatory rule.”

Crowley frowned. “What are you two talking about? What happened to Will?” The name still sounded weird on his tongue, even after six months of using it in public. 

Titus frowned, shuffling his feet as he placed his backpack on the seat in front of him. “Will went to buy prom tickets today at lunch. He wanted to take you with him, but the school said he couldn’t bring you as a date because you’re both boys.”

“Prom?” What in the hell were they talking about? Crowley could feel anger beginning to burn within him, even though he didn’t fully understand the situation. Aziraphale had obviously wanted to surprise him with some sort of event but had been told ‘no’ by the school and it had upset him. It had upset him so much that he hadn’t even wanted to come over and see Crowley and that hurt more than anything else.

Titus rubbed his neck, glancing up at the red-haired boy awkwardly. “Right. Prom. It’s like this big dance held at the end of every year. Couples get to dress up really nice and eat dinner together and then enjoy a bunch of music and dance and stuff.”

“Like a ball?” It had been ages since Crowley had been to an event like that. He’d never been particularly fond of them - only bothering to show up if it meant he could work on some temptations. Now, however. Crowley gulped, feeling heat coursing through his body. The thought of Aziraphale, dressed to the nines in a black tux, spinning across the dance floor as Crowley held him in his arms. He felt himself go weak at the knees.

“Sure, yeah. Something like that,” Titus responded. “Point is, they won’t let him bring you because you’re a boy. And when Will found out, he got all still and quiet and, well, I think it...triggered something.”

Crowley was at full attention. When he and Aziraphale had returned from Heaven, they had told the Device-Pulsifer’s everything. Since then, most of Aziraphale’s recovered memories had been triggered when he and Crowley had been alone. The few that Titus had witnessed had been smaller, more pleasant ones that were over with quickly. He’d never had to deal with Aziraphale in that state on his own before. 

“Did he say anything?” Aziraphale didn’t normally speak during his trances, but Crowley had noticed a pattern recently that indicated a higher likelihood of a bad memory if the angel did speak.

Titus nodded slowly. “I didn’t catch all of it. I was distracted and didn’t realize he’d even slipped away until he spoke. Something about you going too fast?”

The blood left Crowley’s face. “You go too fast for me, Crowley.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need Titus’ nod of affirmation to know what memory had escaped into Aziraphale’s mind. Why, oh why did it have to be that one? The one that haunted Crowley even to this day. The one that held him back, made him afraid to sometimes say what was on his mind for fear of pushing the blonde boy too far. 

_ Shit! Shit shit shitshitshit!  _ This was not good. 

“I need to go to him,” Crowley heard his voice croak out. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Anathema stand up from her position on the couch and make her way over to the three teenagers now standing around the table. “I need to make sure he’s ok.”

“Crowley, stop.”

Anathema’s voice rang through the room, halting the former demon in his tracks. He turned to look at the woman who had become his stand in mother, waiting for her to continue.

“He’s a big boy who knows how to look after himself. I’m sure if he wanted to see you right now, he would have come over.”

Her words stung, but Crowley recognized them as the truth. Aziraphale had always been on the more reserved side. Fuck, he’d taken six  _ thousand _ years to finally admit to himself that they were even friends. Giving the boy some time to himself to sort out his feelings was probably a good thing. His angel would call him if he wanted to talk. Crowley could wait until then.

“Sorry if this is being too nosy or anything,” Titus’ friend began, looking back and forth between Anathema and Crowley, “but is Will ok?”

Crowley sighed. Why was this girl even here? “He’s...dealing with some temporary memory loss. Nothing too serious. We were told it would all come back eventually. Right now, the memories come back in flashes, and he has a tendency to zone out when they do. The one he remembered today…” Crowley trailed off, not sure how to explain it without going into a thousand year long history of secret meetings and lunch dates and all manner of other things. “He rejected me a while back. I opened up to him and he wasn’t ready. He was afraid of what other people might think, so he turned me down. And it hurt a lot, and he feels guilty for it now and I just didn’t want him to be alone after just remembering that.”

Knowing Aziraphale, he would obsess over the whole thing, upsetting himself even more than he already was. Crowley didn’t want that. Yes, the memory hurt, and  _ yes _ , he still thought about that night on occasion, but it really shouldn’t matter anymore to either of them. They had been through so much to get where they were today and they were  _ together _ , finally, after so long. Nothing that had happened before should matter.

“Well,” the girl started, grabbing onto a strand of her curly hair. “I don’t know how to help with the memory issue, but I can at least solve the prom problem.”

Both boys stared at her, incredulously. The girl rolled her eyes. Anathema simply smiled.

“You may have to explain it to them, dear,” the older woman said with a twinkle in her eye. “Teenage boys tend to be a bit slow on the uptake.”

Crowley would have been offended at the statement had it been directed at him, but he hardly considered himself a teenage boy. He was a demon trapped in the body of a human for the time being. And that human body happened to appear to be an adolescent male. That didn’t make him a teenage boy.

The girl laughed. Crowley sensed an instant connection between the two women. He wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one for Titus.

“I’ll bring Anthony as my date to prom,” she explained, eyes reflecting the same twinkle as Anathema’s. “They can’t say no to that, and once you’re in, you can go off and spend all your time with Will, for all I care. The tickets are just a formality. They can’t stop us from changing it up once we’re inside the building.” 

“Will that work?” Crowley found himself asking. “Will they let us dance together?” 

The girl shrugged. “They might make a big deal about it if you tried to slow dance together or something but they aren’t going to notice two boys making eyes at each other in the middle of a giant throng of teenagers.”

It was better than nothing, although the idea of not being able to hold Aziraphale close as they swayed to some embarrassing love song was surprisingly a bit of a disappointment.

“Hang on,” Crowley started, finally processing what the girl had said. “A giant throng of teenagers? What is this, some kind of rave?”

The girl shrugged. “Practically. You know, without all the alcohol and drugs and stuff. Although I wouldn’t put it past some of the students to try and sneak some in.”

“This is ridiculous!” the red-haired boy huffed. “What is he getting himself all worked up about, anyway? He’d  _ hate _ this sort of thing. Hundreds of bodies pressed up against each other. Loud music blaring. Mediocre food at best. It sounds like his worst nightmare. Why in the world would he even want to go?”

After a moment of silence, Anathema answered. “He wants to go with  _ you _ , Anthony. It’s part of the human experience, for some people, anyway. He wants to experience all life has to offer,  _ with you. _ And that includes cheesy, terrible high school dances.”

Crowley’s expression softened after this, though he still held on to his belief that Aziraphale would hate going to this dance. In all his six thousand years, Crowley had never once seen Aziraphale dance. Except…

“Do they do folk dances at this prom?”

All three of the humans standing before him looked at Crowley like he had finally gone crazy.

“Not that I know of,” Titus responded. “Kelsey?”

Ah. So that was the girl’s name. Crowley filed it away into the ‘useless information he would never bother remembering’ section of his mind.

“Not really,” Kelsey responded. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Crowley frowned. That was all well and good, but even if their request was honored, it wouldn’t matter because even though Aziraphale may enjoy those types of dances, Crowley had no idea what the steps were or where to even begin. “No use,” he muttered sourly, looking away from them. “I wouldn’t be able to dance with him then either. I don’t know the steps.”

The Kelsey girl grinned and Crowley recognized the mischievous glint in her eye. He narrowed his eyes in her general direction, waiting for her to speak whatever idea was clearly on her mind.

“Did you have a particular dance in mind?” she asked coyley. “I work part time as a dance instructor, you know. I’m sure I could teach you enough to get by.”

Crowley told her and Kelsey’s grin became impossibly wider.

“Give me a week, Anthony, and I’ll have you dancing in your sleep.”

* * *

This was utter insanity. Aziraphale couldn’t believe he’d let Titus talk him into coming to this blasted event. The room was hot, the music was loud and the menu looked absolutely atrocious. The boys had driven themselves and had been forced to park all the way down the hill,  _ then _ had to wait in line for twenty minutes before someone finally took his ticket and showed them to their dinner table.

“Honestly,” Aziraphale huffed as they sat down. “I don’t see what the fuss is all about. Prom is always such a focal point in these newfangled movies, but it’s just a load of hosh-posh.”

Titus glanced over at Aziraphale, the humor evident in his eyes. “Hosh-posh? Do you hear yourself? Honestly, it’s like you’re trying to be obvious.”

The blonde boy grumbled. “It’s not like any of them are paying attention anyway.” hands crossed against his chest, Aziraphale sat down at the table, taking in the vase of fake flowers and confetti stars littering the dark blue tablecloth. It was like they hadn’t even tried with the decorations.

He missed Crowley. The chances of the other boy enjoying this venue was next to none, but at least he’d be here so Aziraphale could laugh at all the things he thought were terribly tacky about the night. The food, the decorations, the music - Crowley would have something to say about it all and Aziraphale would be all ears. He always was, for anything his beloved had to say.

“I can’t believe I let you drag me out for this,” Aziraphale muttered. “Can’t we just go home and watch a movie or something? It would be more enjoyable than this.”

Titus shook his head, reaching up to adjust his deep purple bow tie. “Absolutely not. There is no way I am letting my best friend miss his Senior Prom. You only get to do this once, man. Tonight is gonna be a blast! I promise you.”

Aziraphale would have rolled his eyes, but that would be impolite. Instead, he simply sighed and looked around the room as teenagers began to find their seats. So far, the other six seats at their table remained empty.

“Do you have any idea who we’ll be sitting with?” Aziraphale asked, not quite daring to hope for some kind of decent conversation that evening. He didn’t have too many friends other than Titus, so there was a decent possibility that the boys could end up sitting with a table of total strangers. 

“Oh,” Titus replied, not really paying much attention to Aziraphale at the moment. He was quite preoccupied with scanning the room, gaze flitting back and forth between both entrances, quite obviously looking for someone. “Yeah. Kelsey will be here with her date and some of her other friends.” He glanced down at his phone. “She said they were about to pass through the doors.”

Aziraphale frowned. Wasn’t Kelsey the pretty girl from before? Why in the world was she coming with another date? Had something happened? Why was Titus not escorting her to this event? Had it been Aziraphale’s fault? He would feel absolutely dreadful if Titus had given up his chance at a wonderful evening just to try and make him feel better.

“Oh, quit your worrying.” Aziraphale could hear the wide grin in the boy’s voice as he spotted something across the room. “I can practically hear you fretting.”

The boy was about to shoot back a retort when Kelsey approached the table. He almost hadn’t recognized her. The girl’s wild curls were tamed and pulled back atop her head in a nest of intricate braids. She wore a form fitting red dress that hung off her shoulders and reached all the way to the floor. Around her neck hung a simple strand of pearls and she was grinning ear to ear, her arm wrapped gently around a black sleeve that was attached to a rather handsome red-haired boy’s jacket.

“Hey, Angel.”

The girls who had all approached the table with the couple ‘awwed’ simultaneously as one would a kitten or a baby. Aziraphale simply stared at Crowley, open-mouthed, trying to figure out if he was somehow dreaming.

“What are you doing here?”

_ Stopping you from getting into trouble. _

The memory came and went so fast, Aziraphale hardly had time to register it. Instead of dwelling on the brief image of a demon hopping around in a church, the blonde chose to focus entirely on the taller boy now standing in front of him. Crowley was  _ here _ . Dressed in a rather fetching black tux with a vibrant red vest and tie. He looked so beautiful it took Aziraphale’s breath away.

“Oh, you know,” the former demon teased, as he moved to take the seat next to Aziraphale, surreptitiously reaching over to squeeze the boy’s knee lightly. “Just bending the rules a bit. Figured this party could use a little bit of energy.”

He turned to Kelsey, hoping she could give him a bit more of an explanation that made sense. The girl smiled, reaching out to take Titus’ hand. “We figured this was the easiest way around the ‘no boyfriend’ rule. Crowley wanted to surprise you.”

Aziraphale smiled, overwhelmed with the urge to kiss the boy beside him, but overcoming it. Despite his initial reservations about the night, Aziraphale didn’t want them to get kicked out before it had barely begun. 

“So,” Crowley drawled, leaning up against the back of his chair in such a way that no human should be able to do - an enticing tangle of long slender limbs. “This is prom, eh? What a load of bullocks.”

“I know!” Aziraphale agreed almost instantly. “Exactly what I’ve been saying, my dear. Have you seen the menu for tonight? An absolute travesty.”

They talked all through the meal and compared notes on how simply awful it was when paired up with esteemed eateries like the Ritz. The girls at the table seemed enraptured with them, wanting to know all sorts of things - how they first met, how long they’d been friends, when they realized they were first in love. Aziraphale let Crowley take the reins on those conversations, knowing the former demon was much more adept at fabricating stories than he was.

At some point in the evening, when they had stuffed themselves full of every last available morsel, Crowley stood and offered his hand. Titus and Kelsey had already disappeared onto the dance floor and Aziraphale had run out of excuses other than the most obvious one.

“What if they see us, my dear?” he asked, still taking the hand he was offered. How could he ever turn down Crowley again? “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“Relax, Aziraphale,” the boy said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The use of his real name sent shockwaves of pleasure from the boy’s fingertips to the tips of his toes. He would follow Crowley anywhere. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Aziraphale allowed himself to be dragged through the crowd of adolescents. Once they entered the main dance hall, he had the sudden urge to lift his hands to block out the pounding noise in his head. Was this...music? It hardly sounded like any he had ever heard.

“Anthony,” the boy began, tugging back on the hand that guided him. “I’m not so sure about this.” He eyed the massive collection of bodies jumping around, pressed up against each other. “This doesn’t really look like much of a good time.”

“What?” The red-haired boy called over the sound of the music,not faltering at all in his advance.

Aziraphale swallowed nervously as they were surrounded. “I said: This doesn’t look like much of a good time!”

Crowley simply grinned. “It will be!” he shouted back, then turned to look ahead of him. Aziraphale followed his gaze and spotted Titus and Kelsey on the other side of the room. That must be where Crowley was headed, Aziraphale mused. At least they’d be at the edge of the crowd where there was a little bit more space to breathe. 

“Hey, brother!” Titus cheered, lifting his hand in a ‘high-five’ motion that Crowley quickly returned. A smile broke out across Aziraphale’s face as he witnessed the interaction. He was happy Titus and Crowley were getting along so well. For the time being, he was living with his parents and the knowledge that Crowley had a family of his own that he enjoyed was a relief.

“You boys ready?” Kelsey asked, a grin spreading across her face. Aziraphale looked over, puzzled. Ready for what? And why were Crowley and Titus smiling so much? 

He opened his mouth to ask just precisely what was going on when he saw Kelsey raise her hands in the air, two thumbs up. The music immediately changed from something with a low beat and a lot of guitar to something lighter. Faster. All too familiar.

Aziraphale’s eyes flew wide. He knew this song! He loved this song! It reminded him of the late 1800s when he’d - 

“Alright ladies and gentlemen!” The DJ announced. “Time to switch it up a bit. I hope you all enjoy this blast from the past.”

“Tha Gavotte!” Aziraphale exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. “How did you? When did you?” He was at a loss for words. 

Crowley simply grinned, his golden eyes flashing as he held out his arm for Aziraphale to take. The others, including Kelsey’s friends, had already lined up in formation and were eagerly bobbing up and down to the beat of the music.

“Dance with me, angel!” Crowley shouted gleefully. Who was Aziraphale to refuse such an offer? He reached out his hand, looping it carefully through Crowley’s arm, and they danced.

* * *

No matter how hard he tried, Crowley could not wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire drive home. Kelsey and Aziraphale had switched spots in the car, so now he was driving his angel home and Kelsey was spending the rest of her evening with Titus, as it should be. Their ploy to bend the rules had worked perfectly, and just as Kelsey had suspected, no one had given a rat’s ass that he and Aziraphale had spent the entire night together. 

The night wasn’t over yet. Crowley drove in silence for a while, simply content to listen to Aziraphale humming along to the radio station. His eyes stared out the front windshield, looking for the danger of oncoming traffic or random wild animals, but also searching for something else. There was one more thing he suspected Aziraphale wanted, but would never ask for. He didn’t care much for human traditions, but Crowley would be damned if he didn’t give Aziraphale the best prom experience a human could ask for.

“Where are we going?” Aziraphale asked as Crowley turned the Bentley off the main road and pulled into a small deserted parking lot next to a community park. He put the car in park, but left it running, glancing over at Aziraphale with a soft smile on his face.

“I have one more surprise for you, angel,” he practically whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loudly, he would shatter the beautiful moment of the two of them, here, alone. 

“Yes?” he heard the other boy breathe back, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments. Crowley couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s, relishing the way the boy seemed to melt into his touch. When he pulled away, Aziraphale’s eyes were still closed, the hint of a blush on his round cheeks. Crowley smiled as the blue eyes fluttered open and his angel took in a rush of air.

“That was lovely, Crowley.” It was just the two of them now. No need to pretend they were anything other than what they were.

Crowley smirked, reaching out to open his car door. “That wasn’t the surprise.” He walked around to the passenger seat door and opened it, extending a hand for the boy to take. A tingle of electricity ran from his fingertips, down his spine, all the way to his toes as he felt Aziraphale’s soft skin against his.

Without letting go, Crowley leaned back into the car and pressed the CD button, his stomach twisting nervously as the music began to play.

“What is this?” Aziraphale asked softly. Crowley chuckled. He was always so slow on the uptake. How someone as brilliant as Aziraphale could be so oblivious, Crowley would never understand.

“Dance with me, angel?”

Aziraphale’s face melted in that moment. Tears of happiness lapped at the corners of his eyes and he practically fell into Crowley’s arms. The red haired boy breathed in deep, the scent of old books and tea leaves soothing his soul. This was everything he ever wanted. He would put up with all the ridiculous human customs and rules so long as he could have this for the rest of eternity.

_ 'Cause heaven is a place I know _

_ I tell myself I shouldn't go _

_ A place where we could live together _

_ Playing with fire, but certain we live forever _

_ Heaven is a place like this _

_ Four walls to hide within _

_ A cold, cold world's medicine _

_ Knowing you won't have to sleep alone again _

“Thank you for today, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, his blue eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. Had his angel ever looked so beautiful? Crowley had barely been able to keep his eyes off the boy all night. The way his face had shone during their Gavotte had brought tears to Crowley’s eyes. He had never seen such pure joy on Aziraphale’s face before. It was just one more aspect to add to the ever growing list of things he loved about the creature that was currently swaying back and forth in his arms. “It was absolutely wonderful.”

_ I don't know when I started loving you _

_ Now it's all that I can I do _

_ Heaven is a place I know when I'm with you _

“I’m sorry today had such a shaky start to it,” Crowley started. He hadn’t been there to see it, but he’d heard from both Titus and Kelsey how upset his angel had gotten when he found out Crowley couldn’t attend the dance as his date. It seemed like such a silly rule. Why did it bloody matter who went to the dance with whom and what gender anyone identified with? It was just dancing for someone’s sake. Girls danced with girls and boys danced with boys all the time. It made no sense to Crowley. Humans could be so unnecessarily cruel sometimes.

It wasn’t fair for his angel to have to endure such ridicule for something that was beyond his control. Aziraphale loved Crowley, and Crowley happened to be a boy. The former demon hated that this fact alone caused the blonde any form of heartache. They’d both been through so much to get here. After everything, they deserved to be allowed to be as happy as they damn well pleased. Aziraphale should never be made to feel like he was anything less or he was doing anything wrong by being himself with Crowley. He didn’t deserve that.

“Couldn’t be helped,” Aziraphale responded, resting his head against Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley frowned, saddened to hear the wistful tone in the boy’s voice. He was really upset about this, even though he may never say it out loud.

_ 'Cause heaven is a place I know _

_ It's nothing like the TV shows _

_ Cold and dark, still rains it snows _

_ And all the lights have turned down low _

_ Yeah, heaven is a place like this _

_ An assembly of broken things _

_ Never heard an angel sing _

_ Where living doesn't feel like falling _

“Maybe it can,” Crowley started, an idea forming in his mind. Aziraphale had said once that he would love Crowley in whatever form he presented himself. It didn’t matter to the boy whether Crowley was male or female or anything else, so long as he was still the same person underneath. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but we could try talking to Remiel.”

Aziraphale leaned back to gaze up at him, confusion in his eyes. “Whatever for? I don’t think even he has the power to change the mindset of half of mankind.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “I meant, well, he may not have that kind of power, but I’m sure he could manage something as small as turning a boy into a girl.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened a fraction, but Crowley plowed on before the boy had a chance to interrupt. “I wouldn’t mind it. Being a girl, that is. I’ve done it plenty of times before. A bit different, but not in a bad way. And it would make things easier on you. We wouldn’t have to deal with people being cruel. We could just be ourselves.”

_ I don't know when I started loving you _

_ Now it's all that I can do _

_ Heaven is a place I know when I'm with you _

  
  


Aziraphale shook his head. “I would never ask you to do that, dearest. I don’t want you to change who you are just to please other people.”

“I wouldn’t be changing who I was, angel,” Crowley protested. “Just the outer shell. And since when has that really mattered, hm?”

The blue eyes softened, sweeping up and down him until they finally landed back on Crowley’s golden eyes. The red haired boy felt a blush coming on, and he desperately tried to fight it back down. Aziraphale was gazing up at him like he’d hung the stars. Like he was the most beautiful thing on this planet, which was impossible. Crowley already knew who won that title.

“I like this outer shell,” Aziraphale murmured, leaning in for a gentle kiss. Slowly, he brought his hands up to cradle Crowley’s cheeks, fingers moving ever so slightly to run through Crowley’s hair. The boy closed his eyes and savored the touch of his angel’s fingertips as they danced their way across his skin, leaving tiny trails of fire in their wake. “I’ve grown quite fond of it, you see, and I...well, I hoped…”

The boy’s voice trailed off. Crowley opened his eyes to see a very embarrassed Aziraphale, now staring at his feet as they shuffled back and forth to the music. Even the cover of darkness couldn’t obscure the redness of his face in that moment.

“I rather hoped that someday I could make love to it. To  _ you. _ ”

_ Just for moment _

_ The briefest second _

_ Paradise is just inside my reach _

_ It's just for a moment _

_ For the sweetest second _

_ It's you and me _

_ It's you and me _

Tears in his eyes, Crowley surged forward and kissed Aziraphale with all of the love and hope and devotion he had to offer. The boy’s last comment sent fire through Crowley’s veins and it took all of his willpower not to press the boy up against the humming car beside them. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pressing their bodies together, the dance momentarily forgotten. 

“Do you really mean that?” Crowley’s voice broke with emotion as he asked. He had imagined things of that nature with Aziraphale so many times. But Aziraphale was an angel by his very nature, even if he was momentarily stuck in the body of a human. Crowley knew it would never be an option, so he had never allowed himself to hope. He’d never allowed the desires to surface at any moment during his long existence. Not until now. 

“Of  _ course _ I do, my dear,” the boy breathed, sending jolts of electricity through Crowley’s entire being. “I want to experience every part of being human with you.” He laid his head back on the red haired boy’s shoulder and picked up the swaying where they had left off.

_ I don't know when I started loving you _

_ Now it's all that I can do _

_ Heaven is a place I know when I'm with you _

The song ended, and neither boy dared to move a muscle. Neither one wanted this night to ever end. Crowley brushed his cheek against the soft strands of Aziraphale’s curly blonde hair. Gently, he brushed his lips against the golden halo.

“Do you think,” he heard Aziraphale murmur into his neck, sending shivers down Crowley’s spine, “that we could dance to one more?”

Crowley pulled back, then leaned down to press a soft kiss against his angel’s lips. “I made a whole playlist, love. We can dance here as long as you want to.”

And so they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious, the song used in this bit was "Heaven is a Place" by Amber Run. It is one of the many songs on my Ineffable Husbands playlist :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one. Drop a comment and let me know your thoughts. Also, if you have ideas of things you'd like to see in this fic, I'm open to suggestions! It can be high school or later on in life. Don't be afraid to offer up an idea and I'll see what I can do.


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